If you looked into someone’s soul, I wonder what you would see. Would it be a collage of memories, like photos glued on top of one another? A bright sphere of light tinted with brightness and darkness? Something whole and pure or something that shows the wear and tear we all acquire through life? The person as they really are, or the person they imagine themselves as?
I wonder if you looked into my soul what would you see. All my secrets laid bare out for you. All my dreams and desires and longings and anguish and fear. Fear of what has happened, the future, now. Would my soul be complete, perfect? Or would it show the holes from things in my past? Things like the father that wasn’t even one, my grandmother’s death and the general hassle that is being a teenager. The skeletons in my closet; I wonder what you would think of me once you knew them and all that they entail.
Would you still see me?
Would you see something you would consider beautiful, or just beautifully broken once you glimpsed my soul? Can you see it when you search my eyes? Do you see it coming through to try and meet yours?
The Next Day...
If you saw my soul now, all you would see is grey. Maybe some tinges of deep blue, some small bit of white. But mostly grey. Why? One’s soul reflects one’s emotions. And now I feel as if those I let closest are now the ones that don’t care what happens. No messages, no phone calls, nothing. Once we were the ones that people envied due to our closeness, our single-mindedness. We were always together, always had each others’ backs. Now? Our glue has come undone, our threads frayed, our seams ripped to pieces.
And me? I was always the mender, it seems. But now that I’m the patch that needs fixing, who will come and help me?
It seems no one.
Three Weeks Later...
Threads weave themselves in and out of the fabric of our lives, mending that which we thought could never be whole once more. Friendships slip back together, proving that they can stand the test of time. I feel like my soul is a nice, pastel yellow, reflecting the happiness and calm I know possess.
Sure, things got worse before they got better. Many tearful conversations, many hurtful words, many confessions made. Grey turned into black with mad dashes of violent red and envious green.
But the main point is, they did get better. It seems that just when we start to think things could never get any better, Life throws us something unexpected and wonderful.
Nice way for my soul to end another year in this world.
Some older stuff, left over from this summer.